Recorded from the mid- to late-'90s,
Sleep Now Forever finds the duo of
Rose McDowall and
Robert Lee in fine creative health. Starting with the flowing
a cappella overdubs that begin
"Soldier," McDowall's still wondrous voice acting as melody and as texture,
Sleep Now Forever is neither simply acid-
folk contemplation nor modern
pop record but something entrancing, in its own universe. (That it missed out on the attention that the 'New Weird America' pseudo-scene gave to such music in later years is an unfortunate accident of timing.) The sense of hooks that
McDowall showed herself to be a queen of in earlier years has hardly left, even if delivered at slower paces, while her voice seems to have gained in richness, while
Lee's understated guitar accompaniment is a perfect foil. The Asian-sounding drones on
"Love Dies" and the simple but spot-on echoing notes starting
"Epiphany" are two fine examples among many. The additional instrumentalists, including uilleann pipers and cellists, add a gentle richness throughout -- the album is neither spare nor overblown, but a glazed, careful balance, a full-sounding record at all turns.
"Haunting" lives up to its name perfectly, a cascade of keyboard and
ambient textures that feels like a gentle rise to the heavens, mysteriously beautiful. At times there's almost something suggestive of the mood of late-'60s melancholic
pop --
Nancy Sinatra, say -- translated into
Sorrow's particular setting, making songs like
"October Faul" all the more inspired. For all the aural beauty there can be dark subjects lyrically -- not perhaps all that surprising from the World Serpent-affiliated cycle of bands, but songs like
"Turn Off the Light," a rejection of a person -- or a god? -- and the title track, bidding farewell to a dying individual, have their own power. If there's a small downside to the album it's that it's so much of a constant musical mood piece that individual songs ultimately stand out less than the overall experience -- but a fine one that is. ~ Ned Raggett
